


Kiss From A Rose

by Toni_Lynne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: British Men of Letters, F/M, Smut, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 02:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12026136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toni_Lynne/pseuds/Toni_Lynne





	Kiss From A Rose

_There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say_  
_You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain_  
 _Baby, to me, you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny_  
 _Won’t you tell me, is that healthy, baby?_

_But did you know that when it snows_   
_My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen?_   
_Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey_   
_Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah_   
_Now that your rose is in bloom_   
_A light hits the gloom on the grey_

* * *

 

“When it rains it pours,” you muttered, looking at the newspapers scattered over the war room table. Possible werewolf in Indiana, four couples murdering one another ritualistic style during sex in Tennessee, and six mysterious drownings in Lake Michigan where witnesses reported seeing the Loch Ness Monster at the time.   

The sound of footsteps behind you made you jump, turning to see Arthur Ketch walk in the room. Dressed in one of his suits, his tie straight and his shoes shining, he looked completely out of place among the casual denim look everyone else, including Mick Davies, sported. 

When Ketch sat down next to you at the table you quickly stood, walking over to Dean’s mini-fridge and pulling out a beer before leaning against the wall.   You knew you were being rude, but you didn’t trust the ex-British Men of Letters assassin. 

After that Umbridge looking toad Dr. Hess and her underling Toni Bevell came back and murdered several American hunters, Mick and Ketch had broken what they referred to as their “programing” and escaped the compound, coming to the Winchesters for help. 

The American hunters banded together and eliminated the British bastards, leaving Ketch and Mick displaced.  They had both been staying at the Winchester’s bunker now for several weeks and had naturally started to fit into the scheme of things.  You knew Sam and Dean didn’t fully trust them yet but they did like having the extra hands around.

You and Mick had quickly formed a friendship based on your mutual love of books, and you genuinely believed he had the best of intentions.  As you watched him learn to be a hunter you grew to trust him.

But Ketch? Ketch you didn’t trust.  Sure he helped with hunts, he was probably the best hunter you had ever worked with.  But he didn’t try to fit in. He didn’t bond. He didn’t attempt to tell jokes or join the after hunt celebrations. 

And he seemed to be hiding something.  Sometimes you would glance over at him when he didn’t know you were watching and you could see a longing in his face. It worried you what he was longing for. Murder? Blood? His violent past?

“Three cases,” Dean announced, interrupting your internal musing. “Sam, Cas, and I are going to head up to Lake Michigan.  Mick, since you know so much about werewolves can you take Indiana?”

“Of course,” Mick agreed right away.

“I’ll go with him,” Mary chimed in.

“Okay, Y/N and Ketch, you take the couples in Tennessee.”  You paused with the bottle halfway to your lips. You had never worked alone with Ketch and you weren’t going to do so now. Dean knew you didn’t trust him.

As everyone stood and left to begin packing bags and loading weapons you chased after Dean. “Hey.”

He stopped and turned around. “I already know what you are going to say. It’s just a hunt.”

“I hate him Dean,” you exaggerated, hate was a strong word, “I don’t trust him and I don’t want to work with him.  Send Mick to Tennessee, Mary and I can take the werewolf,” you pleaded.

“Mick knows more about wolves than anyone else.”

Your shoulders slumped when you realized you were going to have to go.  Shaking your head, you turned and stomped down the hallway, not noticing Ketch standing in the doorway to the kitchen listening to the entire conversation.

* * *

The drive was silent.  You plugged in your headphones and listened to one of the books on tape Sam loaned you while Ketch focused on driving. Mick had managed to save several of the vehicles before burning down their former compound so at least you were traveling in luxury.

You had almost dozed off when you felt Ketch exit the freeway.  Opening your eyes, you saw that he had stopped at a small diner. “Where are we?”

“St. Louis. We have about four hours to go.”

Nodding, you tucked your phone and headphones in your bag and followed him into the diner. Being on the road with Sam and Dean meant fast food burgers or gas station potato chips.  Of course Ketch would want to find a restaurant to eat at.

Waiting for your order to be delivered, you looked around the diner, busy with the lunchtime rush.  “They must have good soup,” you mentioned to break the awkward silence.

“Yes. It would be a shame to _hate_ it.” 

You gave him an odd look, wondering what his problem was but nothing more was said between the two of you. 

Instead you focused on reading over the newspaper clippings on the four couples while you ate, doing your best to ignore the man across from you. 

* * *

 

“Y/N, we are here,” you heard Ketch say, his voice soft.

Opening your eyes, you blinked a few times before you realized it was dark out and you were parked in front of a motel.  Turning to look at him, still sitting in the drivers seat, you were surprised to see an unguarded softness in his eyes for just a moment before he quickly turned to open his door. For a moment he looked like a different person, and you had to wonder how different he would have been if the British Men of Letters hadn’t found him.   _He could have been a good man._

You didn’t have time to think on it anymore as you took your room key and headed down the hallway. Anxious for a shower and bed.

Ketch stopped at his room, a few doors down from yours. “Would you like to meet for breakfast before we head out to interview the witnesses?”

“Let’s meet around noon at the car,” you said, sticking your room key in the door and missing the disappointment flash across his face.

“Yes. Goodnight Y/N.”

Your door clicked shut in response.

Stripping down, you wasted no time taking a hot shower.  Deciding to skip drying your hair, you crawled into bed and passed out almost right away.

You spent most of the next morning in your room going over articles on your iPad.  You had a list of people you wanted to interview and after changing into a skirt and blouse, you grabbed your fake FBI badge and headed downstairs to meet Ketch.

You could tell right away he wasn’t in a good mood.  By the time you made it to the fifth interview, the roommate of one of the murdered men, he was hanging back and letting you handle things on your own.

The final stop was one of the thousands of country bars in Nashville. It was already busy despite the early afternoon time.  Quickly spotting the waitress you were there to talk to, you were making your way across the room when a drunk cowboy walked up and threw his arm around your waist.  “Hey there pretty,” he said in a long southern drawl.

You rolled your eyes and pulled out the FBI badge.  The guy made a face and was starting to pull his arm back when he was yanked from you and thrown to the floor. 

Ketch had him pinned to the ground, a seething expression on his face. “Do not touch her again.”

“Ketch!” you yelled, grabbing his bicep. “Let him go.”

He stood up, shaking your hand off his arm.  Pulling out his handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow, he turned and stomped out of the bar.

Abandoning your interview, you followed. “What the fuck was that? He saw my badge, he was letting go.”

“We know the address of the location they all visited before their deaths,” he said as if he didn’t hear you, “We do not need to continue with these interviews.”

You decided to let it go, he was already in a bad mood and the two of you still had to focus on the task at hand.

The address was an abandon house just outside town.  Walking around the outside you could tell it was once a well-to-do home but years of neglect had caused it to rot. 

Still angry with Ketch for his behavior at the bar, you decided to go inside on your own.  If he wanted to follow you he could.  It was probably not the smartest decision, but you didn’t care at the moment.

The house was empty.  Daylight through the dirty windows illuminated the space and you walked around the lower floor.  There were several footprints in the dust showing others had been in the house, but nothing else was different.

In the center of the house was a curved staircase leading to the second floor.  You made your way upstairs.  There were several rooms with beds in them, the comforters and sheets modern. Were the couples using this house as a place to meet?

The last room was almost empty.  A old table stood underneath the window and on it was a sapphire pendant necklace. 

You walked over, wondering if it belonged to one of the victims.  As you neared, you heard something whispering in your ear.  You couldn’t make out any words but the sound was soothing.  You reached out and touched the sapphire and suddenly you recognized it.  _It was yours._

You heard his footsteps coming up the stairs and he was calling your name.  You recognized him right away.  You needed him. A desperate hunger filled every corner of your mind. 

“You should have told me you were coming inside,” Ketch demanded as he entered the room. “It wasn’t safe to come in here alone.”

You quickly crossed the room, your hands grabbed his neck as you tugged him down to your lips.  There was a buzzing sensation in your ears and a warm rushing feeling through your toes.  You were okay now. He was here.

His arms went around your body as he kissed you back.  Your tongue reached out to stroke against his.

Suddenly he stopped, pulling back to look at you before turning and leaving the room, his footsteps heavy as he made his way down to the first floor.

You descended the staircase quickly, almost tripping on the way down. “Wait!”

Ketch stopped, turning back to look at you. “What are you playing at?” His tone was angry and there was a hardness in his eyes.

“I…I don’t understand,” you said, your voice barely a whisper now.

“Why did you kiss me?” he demanded.

“I don’t know, all I can think about right now is kissing you. I need your embrace. I am going to die if you don’t hold me!” You cried out dramatically.

Ketch studied you for a moment before his eyes landed on the heavy sapphire necklace around your neck. Frowning, he quickly closed the distance between the two of you, his hand coming up to brush the gold chain. “Where did you get this necklace?”

You cupped his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “I don’t know, but does it matter when we have each other?”

His eyes closed for a moment and he leaned his cheek into your hand. 

You stood on tiptoes and used the grip you had on his cheek to pull him close, your lips almost brushing his.

Ketch closed his hand in a fist around the gold chain of your necklace and ripped it off your neck, tossing the stone across the room and breaking the lust spell you were under.

Yanking your hand away from his cheek, he straightened his jacket before raising an eyebrow at you. 

You stumbled backwards, catching yourself before you landed on your ass. “What happened?” You were confused. You remembered making your way upstairs and now you were down on the first floor with Ketch, your hand on his cheek.

“Cursed objects, that’s what is causing all of this,” he muttered, taking a few steps back and pacing the room.

“Cursed objects?” you echoed, trying to clear your mind.

He walked over and picked up a sapphire necklace from the floor, his thumb rubbing the jewel. “Men are immune. We need to find out who is leaving them.”

Back to business, he dropped the necklace on the floor again. “We need to destroy it.”

You nodded, the whispering was back and you found yourself walking forward, desperate to hold the sapphire.

“No,” he snapped, grabbing you and tugging you out of the house. “Wait at the car. The curse is calling to you. I’ll destroy it.”

You hated being told what to do but this time he was right.  Leaning up against the car, you watched him head back inside with salt and a lighter.   You closed your eyes, trying to remember the moments you were cursed.  What did you do?

You waited until the drive back to ask. “What happened? When I was wearing the necklace?”

His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “Nothing.”

“I was touching you.”

“You flirted a bit.  I knew right away you were cursed and removed the object.  That is all.”

The rest of the ride was silent as you tried to remember the details.  It wasn’t until you were showered and wearing a spare button down flannel shirt in bed that you remembered what happened.

You kissed Arthur Ketch.  He lied to you.

You didn’t bother to change into clothes.  Padding down the hotel hallway with bare feet in your night shirt, you banged on his door.

When he opened it wearing black sleep pants and a t-shirt you faltered for a moment, having never seen him anything but suits or his hunting gear.

“Why did you lie?”

“Lie?”

“You said all I did was flirt. I…I kissed you.”

“Did you want me to tell you that you kissed me as much as you hate me?”

You stared at him for a moment before turning to walk away.

His hand came out to grab your arm. “Not so fast.”

You didn’t say anything as he slowly backed you against the wall, his eyes on yours.

Several tense moments passed before he leaned close, his face brushing against yours as he nuzzled your ear. You heard him whisper one barely audible word. “Please.”

His breath ghosted across your cheek and your eyes slid shut, your hands flat against the wall.  Waiting for his lips on yours, you weren’t expecting him to pull back. “Leave.”

“What?”

“Leave. Get out, now.”

Trembling, you practically ran from the room, returning to yours. 

What happened? Was it possible that Arthur Ketch had feelings for you?

And why did you stand there waiting for his kiss? You hated him. Right?

You climbed into bed but tossed and tuned, unable to sleep. Your mind was on the man down the hall.

 _He killed innocent people._   Or at least he did.  Since breaking this “programming” he hadn’t hurt anyone but those you hunted. 

 _He would harm anyone in his way._ He didn’t harm innocents. He was using the Winchester methods to gather information, even when he hunted alone.

 _He was unfeeling and uncaring._   He took down the creep at the bar, he must have cared.  And unfeeling? He seemed hurt that you said you hated him.  And there was clearly feeling in what just happened between the two of you in his room.

All the arguments you used to justify your distrust and anger, they were all wrong. You had him wrong. You never gave him the chance to show anything had changed.

He wasn’t the monster you remember, so how much of that monster was their doing?

He was a man. A handsome, caring, lonely man.

A man that you were attracted to.

Still in your nightshirt, you walked back down the hallway and knocked on his door. 

When he answered you could tell he hadn’t slept any either. “What’s wrong?”

You stepped inside his room, shutting the door.  Ketch was watching you, his eyes confused when you walked up and cupped his cheek.

“Don’t do this if you don’t mean it,” he said, his voice rough.

You gently kissed him, brushing your lips against his.  Ketch reached up to grip the back of your head, holding you to his mouth as he took control, turning your innocent kiss into something primal.  You kissed for a long time, learning his flavor. 

Grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt, he broke away from your mouth long enough so you could lift it over his head.  Pulling you back to his lips, his hands quickly unbuttoned the flannel shirt you had on, pushing it off your shoulders to reveal your naked body.  The feel of your breasts against his chest as he held you felt right and you whispered his name. “Arthur.”

Ketch opened his eyes, his hands trailing down your curves.  You went to work on his sleep pants, pushing them down with his boxers so he stepped out of both before walking you backwards to the bed.  You fell on it together, his weight over you and his lips never leaving yours.  He settled between your legs, running  his hands over your body while he lined himself up, slowing sliding inside you. 

You hissed, pushing up against him as he filled you.  On his first thrust you bit his lip, completely caught up in the sensation.

He pulled back, a smile on his swollen lips.  His mouth drifted across your shoulders as he moved.  One hand cupping your breast, the other pinning one of your hands above your head, he moved over and over, pressing as deep into you as he could with every thrust he made. 

You could feel yourself on the verge of an orgasm when he rolled you over so you were on top. You bent down, meeting him with open mouth kisses while you rode him.  Feeling once again the burning approach of your orgasm, you pulled back from his lips, sitting up and increasing your speed until you came, holding still around his hard cock as you pulsed, your fingers digging into his chest and your mouth open.

Ketch sat up, wrapping his arms around you in his lap.  Moving once again, you pushed down while he moved up.  His lips found your breasts and he took your nipple in his mouth.  Digging your nails into his shoulder, you felt his movements become sloppy and then with a groan he came, reaching up to cup your head and bring your lips back to his as he filled you. 

You both were sweating and you dropped your head on his shoulder, not ready to pull away from him yet.   His hand stroked your back and you could feel him softening until he slipped out of you.

Gently moving so you were laying in his arms on the bed, you both fell asleep.

You woke up first.  Looking over, you saw he was still asleep beside you.  His face was relaxed and his mouth was slightly open.  You smiled,  in the early morning light he looked like a man, not the monster you had been trying to see him as.

Shifting, you realized you were covered in dry sweat and you could feel the remnants of your combined release against your thighs.  Silently cursing yourself for not cleaning up before falling asleep, you slid from his arms and stood, picking up your shirt.

“You are leaving,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice.

Spinning, you saw he was awake, his eyes locked on you. “No. I was going to take a shower,” you explained, walking in the restroom.  Starting the hot water, you stuck your head out the door. Ketch was sitting up on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall.

“Arthur? The water is hot, come join me,” you said before stepping back inside. You were already in the shower when he stepped in behind you a few seconds later, his arms wrapping around you.

Turning in his arms, you brushed a kiss against his lips. “I am sorry.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“I never hated you, I just never tried to understand what you went though and what this programming was. I never tried to understand you.  I  want to know about you Arthur. Who you are.”

“You don’t. I was not, am not, a good man.”

“You are wrong. Maybe you weren’t when you were their attack dog, but you are now.  I’ve seen you.”

Crushing you to his chest, you rested your head against his heartbeat as the warm water washed over you both.

When the water turned cold you stepped out of the shower together to get ready for the hunt you had to finish.

 


End file.
